As Told By Tanya
by Eikichi
Summary: This story is dedicated to Igatona. A fic of the life story of the chubby, greenclad Snowboard Kid from the view of his older sister, Tanya.


As Told By Tanya  
By: Raichu  
Rated: PG-13 for one little comment she makes. (marked with *.)  
Note: I know you hear this from ALL the other authors but I don't own Snowboard Kids.  
I'm serious! I'm not an employee at Atlus, obviously. (Oh but if I were....Hehehe.)  
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Hi there boys and girls. Okay, maybe that's a bit too "kiddiesh"...How's this - Hi   
there, ladies and gents. There, maybe it's a bit formal, but it fits the bill. All  
you guys are probably 15 or 16 or somewhere around that age department. Alright, I'd  
best introduce myself now. My name is Tanya Michelle Parsy and I'm 21 years old.   
As you may have guessed it, I'm Tommy's older sister. Now, where do I start........  
  
* * *  
  
As I remember it, I was ten years old and I was sitting in my living room watching   
cartoons. That's something I did on a normal routine, it helped pass time whenever  
things seemed boring, or whatever the occasion. Anyhoo, I remember it this way -   
mom and dad walked into the living room and sorta just stood there. I hate it when   
parents do that because it makes you feel like they expect you to suddenly jump up   
and start doing amazing things to impress them. This was one of those moments,   
alright. They just sort of stood there, looking at me, watching me watch Bugs Bunny  
on the television when mom spoke up.  
  
"Sweetie, we have something very important to tell you."  
  
I remember thinking, Oh no - I'm due for another orthodontic appointment, I've gotten  
a new cousin, my parents have decided to cut my allowance, or I've just been too lazy  
at scooping Puddums' litter box. (Puddums is our cat.)   
So here I am, wondering without a single clue what news my parents are about to greet  
me with, when dad speaks up.   
  
"We've kept this from you about a few months or so, but I guess now's a perfect time."  
  
Yep, it's about my allowance. I can feel it.  
  
"You're going to have a little brother soon."  
  
Okay, THAT was NOT what I expected. It hit me like a sack of bricks and left me quite  
speechless for a time. So instead of breaking the silence, they stare at me again,   
hoping I'll say something like "oh wow, that's awesome!" or "Really? When's he due?"  
But no, it's just more of the stare-stare-stare-at-me stuff. So I decide to act on  
impulse and speak up - just to get rid of the annoying silence.  
  
"Uh, um, really? I mean, really, that's great!" I sounded pretty stupid.  
  
My mom just looked at my dad like, 'this ISN'T the response we expected...'  
  
"He's due late in February." My mom said with that classic - and supremely annoying -   
maternal 'beaming' that pregnant moms always do when they're telling others about   
their oh-so-wonderful-soon-to-be-surprise. I hate that more than anything, so I   
turned away, back to the TV screen. Now Bugs was getting chased by Yosemite Sam...  
  
"Well, I guess that's it, huh Tanya? No rejoicing over our soon-to-be family member?"  
My mom said in an annoying nagging tone I've heard a thousand times before.  
  
"What do you expect from me, an all-out crash party?" I snapped. Mom was getting on   
my nerves.  
  
My mom rolled her eyes and sighed. "That's just what we need, an ingrateful daughter.  
Yeah, that's really great. We go through all that and this is what we get."  
  
Go through all what? Sleep together and bang, that's all THEY have to do. And they   
act like it's a big and painful ordeal when they really liked it.* Of course, there's  
also labor, which I guess is sort of the aftermath of it all.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
So the next five months passed on and on (my mom was into it four months when I got the  
news), and I guess I sadly could've cared less. I know, it sounds sort of cruel, but   
I really wasn't looking forward to it. The reason being, for all my life I've wanted  
my mom and dad to announce that I was expecting a little SISTER. I've always wanted a  
little sister to gossip to and share secrets with. But with BROTHERS you can't do   
that. All they want to do is play sports and hang out with their buddies and all that  
guy stuff. I must admit I was disapointed, and I even prayed for my mom to have a   
miscarriage or a stillbirth the night I got the news for that very reason. Yes, I often  
had cruel thougts, but they almost were never really meant. This one almost was. And  
for a while sometimes I reconsidered, feeling the least bit guilty for those death   
wishes I'd self-granted to my unborn brother, but it was whenever my mom would chatter  
on and on about it or yell to my dad, 'he kicked me again' those horrible, awful and   
rather cruel thoughts would return with a vengeance. And I often considered this deep  
in my mind - the thought of what I would do when the big day in February came - I was  
almost fearing it's arrival, so all I could do was wait...and wait...and wait...  
  
...and then it came.  
  
* * *  
  
It was February 21, right 3 hours after I'd been tucked in to bed that I was jolted   
awake by my dad. I shook my head and looked at him, my brown hair flying in a tangly  
mess.  
  
"Tanya, I just wanted to tell you this - " -his speech was fast and breathless- " - Your  
mother is in the hospital. I just took her there an hour ago. I'm going to drop you   
off at Grandma's before I drive over to the hospital to keep mom company. Is that all  
right with you?"  
  
I just nodded, but in my brain I was thinking, "Sure, I get dropped off at Grandma's.  
The upside of that is that wonderful guest bed full of feathers. The downside is that  
I'll come home a day later to an annoying screaming excuse for a brother."  
I swung my feet out of bed, threw some decent clothes on, then headed downstairs to  
the garage, where my dad sat waiting in the car. It was freezing cold out, as I can  
remember correctly, there was a -50'F temperature and snowdrifts blowing every which   
way. Bundled up and looking like a mummy, I got into the car and we drove off to my  
Grandma's. It was a half-hour drive, which isn't that bad, and I'd fallen asleep most  
of the way there so the ride seemed decently quick. Before I knew it, I was standing   
at the door to my Gramma's condominium apartment and she was holding her skinny arms  
out asking me nonverbally to give her a hug. I didn't hug her too tight in return -   
she was an old little bird that would look as though she'd sway in the wind - but for   
her age she was a very pretty little old lady.  
  
"Well hello there." She said to me in her crackly little voice. "Are you two headin' for  
the hospital?"  
  
"Well, it's just me actually, ma. I'm going to keep Tori company while she's   
delivering. Tanya's going to stay here just a little while, if that suits you - "  
  
My gramdma beamed. "Oh, das jus' fine. I'll enjoy the little one's company! So lonely  
recently since Jack's been gone an' all..." Jack was her husband. He'd passed on due  
to lung cancer - he was a heavy smoker, as he'd been all his life.  
  
"That's wonderful. Thank you so much. I'll be seein' you two around, then! Be good,   
Tanya! Take care of her for me, ma!" My dad called out as he walked to the car.  
After he drove off, my grandma turned to me and smiled.  
  
"So....are ya excited about all this?" She said.  
  
"Truthfully, no. What I really wanted was a sister." I said evenly.  
  
"Oh." My grandma said. "I can understand that perfectly. Most brothers want another  
brother and most sisters want another sister. Das just the way it is mos' of the time."  
  
Thank God my gramma understood me. She was the only one so far, and coincidentally on  
the night of my little brother's arrival. So we walked into the apartment complex,   
boarded the elevator and headed for her room. I remember her giving me instructions -   
"get your pajamas on now, dear" then "brus' your teeth, hon" and all the rest. When  
she finally got to "tuck yourself in now" I was already out like a light.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
It was 12:53 in the afternoon when my grandma woke me up. I opened my eyes to see my   
grandma beaming with pride and joy. This beaming was different than the annoying   
maternal pregnancy beaming that my mom did - this was different. This was a sort of   
silent rejoicing, like when someone mute discovers their favorite football team just   
won at the Rose Bowl.  
  
"Tanya....Tanya, sweetie....you awake?"  
  
"I'm up." I said sleepily.  
  
"Jus' wanted to tell you your little bro's arrived." She said. "Name's Thomas Andrew  
Parsy, weighing in at 10 pounds 7 ounces."  
  
Well THAT'S a wide contrast between us. I weighed 6 pounds 10 ounces when I was born.  
Not only that, but I was a skinny little thing when I was born and I still am skinny.  
I wondered if my brother would be a bit husky in his preteen years - which he really   
is now, but I'll get to that later on.  
  
"So that's his name." Was all I said.   
  
My grandma didn't seem to mind. "Yep. I think it fits him, and ya know wha'?   
I haven't even met 'im." She cackled to herself. I thought it was funny too, so I   
laughed. My gramma has a great sense of humor.  
  
"Y'know, it's almost one in de afternoon. Would you like to have some lunch afore your  
dad picks you up?" She asked.  
  
"I slept in that late?" I asked with a slur.  
  
"Yep. Out like a regular light. Came in an' thought you were dead as a doorknob."  
She said with a smile.  
  
I laughed. I was only in deep sleep but I guess to her it must have looked like I was  
dead.  
  
"Well, lunch or not?" She asked me.  
  
"Sure. Then I guess I have to go home." I sighed.  
  
"I know how ya feel. Hoo boy, when I got my little sister she was the mos' fitful and  
cryin' lil' thing. I know from exper'ence." Grandma said, looking at the ceiling like  
she was seeing the event in her mind all over again.  
  
* * *  
  
Grandma took me home shortly after. As soon as I got home I hugged her goodbye and told  
her thanks for the hospitality. I walked in through the front door and was greeted by  
my dad. Thank God for that, I was in no mood to talk to mom. It's strange - for some  
reason, I've always liked my dad better than my mom.  
"You're home!" He said, and gave me a hug. "Wanna see your brother?"   
I shrugged. "Sure. Shoot, I can't even hear him."  
"I know. He's just like you were when you were his age - quiet and still."  
Thank God, I thought.  
I walked inside and dropped my stuff alongside the door and headed for the spare  
bedroom that he was going to be in. All I saw was a crib, blue-painted walls and a   
cupboard. That was strange - Mom was so ecstatic about this new arrival that you would  
have thought she had it decorated up to the ceiling. Drawing a big breath, I walked in   
and reluctantly looked into the crib. I saw this chubby little baby just lying there   
asleep, but as soon as I looked at him, he woke up, looked back at me -   
- and burst out laughing. I mean, this kid could LAUGH! He was even waving   
his arms around and kicking his feet like he was a kid my age cracking up at funny   
cartoons. He looked so funny laughing at me like that that I immediately started  
cracking up myself. By this time, we were both laughing and my dad walked in to see   
what was so funny. He saw the two of us laughing and he started laughing too.  
We must have looked pretty silly, laughing all in one trio like that. That's when my   
mom came along. She looked at the three of us laughing and hissed "QUIET! Can't you see  
he's trying to sleep?"  
"He ain't sleeping. Look at him! He's laughing like a jester or something!"  
My dad chuckled.  
"He needs his sleep. Get out, both of you." Mom scolded.  
Well, that did it, the fun was ruined. I must admit that was a lot of fun,   
laughing all together and all. So we walked out, but it wasn't until I walked out that  
Tommy started to cry.  
"Now look what you've done, you've made him crabby." Mom said and walked over to  
his crib. He just cried harder. This is where I decided to experiment and walk back   
into the room again and stand by his crib. He started right from tears to laughter.  
"I told you to get out." Mom glared at me.  
"He likes me. That's why he's laughing, and that's why he cried when I left the  
room." I told my mom in a firm voice.  
"Well, if he likes you, than maybe you'll show him some gratitude by letting him  
take a nap now." Mom retorted.  
I shrugged, and when Mom wasn't looking, gave her a bad gesture. I was that mad.   
My dad saw the gesture, and just laughed. He really doesn't care what I do, even to his  
own wife. That's one of the things I liked about my dad. I turned around and made a funny  
face at Tommy so he'd laugh again. Sure enough, he did, and then put his serious face back  
on when my mom turned to him.  
  
I couldn't believe I was actually starting to like him.  
  
* * *  
  
"Got any fives?"  
"Go fish."  
  
"Got any Jokers?"  
"Go fish."  
  
I was 15 at this moment, and Tommy was 5. We were playing go fish (obviously) with  
my dad's old pack of cards. Tommy was an expert at this game...he beat me every time.  
He was winning another round when my dad came upstairs. Recently, my mom and my dad got a  
divorce, and if you've read this tale thoroughly you would look back on my mom's attitude   
and understand why.   
"Kids," my dad said, "what would you like for dinner?" My dad was a good cook.  
"Anything!" Was Tommy's immediate reply.  
"I'll have soup, then." I answered. I never get tired of soup - whenever Tommy   
wants to have something for dinner that I don't necessarily like, my choice is always soup.  
"Okay. It'll be ready in about an hour." My dad announced, and left.  
Me and Tommy continued playing the card game when towards the end, he got mad at   
me and claimed that I cheated.  
"You looked at my cards!" He screamed.  
"No I didn't!" I protested.  
"Yeah I saw you! You looked at my cards!"  
"If I would have looked, I could tell you what your cards were, so there!"  
"And I bet you know!"  
"No I don't!"  
"Yes, you do!"  
"NO - I - DON'T!!!" I yelled, and flung the cards everywhere in frustration. Tommy  
yelped and got up to gather up the cards, but he wasn't watching where he was going. He   
ran smack into the edge of the wooden door on the wall nose first. He was knocked down on  
his seat, and started bawling right away. I immediately went over there to see if he   
wasn't hurt (so I wouldn't get my ear chewed off by dad), but as stupid fate has it, his   
nose looked like it was broken and blood was coming out.  
"Shoot - stay there, Tom! Don't move!" I told him, and I headed for the kitchen   
where my dad was.   
"What's the rush?" He asked me.  
"Tommy's hurt! He ran into the door!" I chattered.  
"Damn.." was all my dad could say as he followed me into the living room. There sat  
Tommy, holding his nose and keeping his head upward, as you do with a bloody nose.  
"Tom-" My dad said, and picked up Tommy and rushed to the phone to call 9-1-1.   
The next hour was spent in the ER with my little brother's nose in bandages and some sort of  
splint. When the bandages were removed, an ugly scar ran across the end of his nose. The   
doctor said that the scar would sadly be most likely permanent. So Tommy came home with a  
white plus-shaped bandage on his nose, and to hide the scar, he wears a new one every day so  
no one can see it.  
  
That's the story behind the bandage on his nose.  
  
* * *  
  
When I was 18, Tommy was 8. At this time, up until then, Tommy had always wanted to  
be a chef or a doctor, but at the present time he had a new profession........snowboarding.  
It was when he had entered first grade a few years back that he met Slash and Nancy and all  
the rest of those other guys he hangs around with, and this was at Snowboard Kids Elementary.  
With snowboarding as his foremost skill, I was sure that he would be in the X-Games or something  
when he got older. He was only in second grade and he was a devil at it - he was soaring off  
cliffs without fear and shooting around corners - a definite speed type, as they call it -   
and we attended his every race. I remember the one time that one of Tommy's friends - (he had  
a wacky name...what was it...Jam! That was his name) wasn't looking where he was going and   
when they both crossed the finish line, Jam didn't know he was in second, so he waved his arms  
and grinned at the crowd, and ran into the lift sign. Tommy was laughing so hard that he   
collapsed on the snow and was pounding his fists on the ground, and that's when the announcer  
walked over and gave the laughing Tommy his gold trophy for First Place at Big Snowman.  
That was his first one, and he got many others soon after. He let me keep the Big Snowman one,  
his first one, and it's in my dorm room at my college.  
When I grew 20 last year, Tommy was 10. That's when this video game company named Atlus  
asked my little bro and his friends if they wanted to be in a video game. They were ecstatic,  
and sure enough, they all agreed. We were all happy to see the game when it was released, and  
the funniest part was how they turned Tommy and his friends into little cartoon characters for   
the game. They all had a dwarfed appearance, with black beady eyes and big long or oval noses.  
Tommy was the only character with a perfectly round nose, and the trademark bandage was on the   
end of it. He was also the one with circle-shaped black eyes instead of oval-shaped black eyes.  
And his foremost characteristic, his superfluous weight, was also included. I must admit, I'm  
pretty proud of Tommy and the gang, especially when two other sequels to their game, aptly named  
Snowboard Kids, were made: Snowboard Kids 2 and Snowboard Kids Plus.  
My little bro was a superstar.  
  
* * *  
  
Yesterday I got a phone call from Tommy. The phone rang when I was sleeping late at   
night, and the message wasn't urgent but I was proud of him all the same when he announced that  
he had a girlfriend. He told me her name was Wendy (who was also made into a character in   
Snowboard Kids 2) and he said he knew she was the one for him. I told him congratulations on   
his new love, and I also told him that I was proud to have him for my little brother.  
Nowadays, I think about the time when he wasn't even born yet and I was wishing that he was  
born dead or some other absolutely horrible thing. But now I shun those old thoughts and pray  
to God to tell him how thankful I am to have him as my little bro.  
  
  
  
And I'm all too glad I didn't get a sister instead. 


End file.
